


they billowed back into the hallways

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Degrassi
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam can think of a thousand reasons, suddenly, why Bianca is getting ready for the day in <i>his</i> bathroom instead of hers, and none of them are good. At least five involve his brother and an impending grounding and messy break up and Katie crying on his shoulder about how that bitch always gets what she wants and nice girls always lose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they billowed back into the hallways

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the occasion of beforeskylines' birthday, 2011.

*

Adam smacks his fist against the bathroom door. "Drew!" His brother is such a _girl_ sometimes, racking up hours in front of the mirror. Probably jerking off in the shower again. There's no response, so Adam bangs harder, this time assailing the wood with two hands, open-faced. "Come _on_ ," he begs, refusing to think about how late he is going to be.

He's going in for round three when the door opens. "Are you always this cranky in the morning?" comes a voice that will never belong to his brother. Bianca smirks, opening the door the rest of the way, offering no explanation for why she's standing in his bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping tiny streams over her shoulders. Adam gives her a once over. Maybe twice. He'd be lying if he said he'd never noticed her legs before, but _wow_ , there are things you just don't expect to see after waking up. (Dreams are another story.)

"I'm cranky when someone hogs the bathroom. I'm cranky when -- wait, does my mom know you're here?" Adam can think of a thousand reasons, suddenly, why Bianca is getting ready for the day in _his_ bathroom instead of hers, and none of them are good. At least five involve his brother and an impending grounding and messy break up and Katie crying on his shoulder about how that bitch always gets what she wants and nice girls always lose.

"Your mom actually insisted that I stay. Apparently, I'm no longer a threat to her precious boys or the family name. Funny what people will do for the needy."

Needy? Bianca didn't need _anything_. Adam thought she'd made that clear on multiple occasions. Then: A threat in what way? He can think of a thousand scenarios, suddenly, Bianca dropping the towel, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him into the still-steamy bathroom. Pushing him against the door, pushing her body against his. Licking her lips with some sort of dangerous promise. Adam swallows. "I'm sure Mom explained that we share in this house, and by share I mean get the hell out of the bathroom. I need to pee." He smiles tightly and pushes past her, wondering always if she's wondering about _him_ \-- if he's going to sit down to pee (no), if he packs to sleep (also no), if he'll show his if she shows hers (he could be convinced).

She laughs. "Cranky _and_ needy. I'll remember that."

*

The drive to school is less awkward than it could be, Drew up front with Mom and Adam and Bianca sharing the middle seat, Bianca's purse between them like the tape Adam used to secure to the bench on long car rides. "Keep on your side, Drew," he would say (though he wasn't quite Adam then) and screech with Drew's poking finger inevitably made their way to Adam's side. Of course, Bianca's hardly going to engage in a tickle fight... at least not with Ms. Torres watching.

"Bianca, I was telling Drew this morning that you should feel welcome to stay any time you need to," she is saying, eyes flicking over the two of them and settling on Bianca before a shift in traffic drags her attention away. "Think of our house as a safe place, but know that I won't tolerate any drug use, or alcohol--"

"She knows," Drew interrupts tersely, and Adam wonders if something really _is_ going on. He remembers without summoning the thought, the wonder in Drew's voice when he confessed to Adam about the little tryst in the Boiler Room, the shrug when Adam chastised -- "She _outed_ me, you know." _And I liked her first,_ he'd added as Drew answered "People change, man."

But they're still in the van on the way to school, and Drew is dating Katie, and Bianca is sitting next to Adam, her hand gripping the seat far tighter than necessary. "It's okay, Mrs. Torres. The rules are perfectly clear, and I wouldn't dream of upsetting your trust." She smiles, tight. "I'm really grateful."

"There, Mom. See?"

Ms. Torres swats at Drew, her own smile visible in the rearview mirror.

**

Adam bangs on the door. "Drew!"

"Sorry, still not Drew," comes Bianca's voice from inside the bathroom. "We've got to stop meeting like this." Adam slumps against the door, rolling his eyes. " _This_ meaning when I'm completely indisposed and you've got to take a piss."

He waits until the rush of water comes and she opens the door, still wiping her hands with the sink towel. "You'd rather we met in different circumstances?"

Bianca narrows her eyes. "Believe it or not, I don't normally socialize near toilets."

"But they make for such scintillating small talk."

She reaches out and buries her fingers in his hair. It's a brotherly move, a quick ruffle before she retreats down the hallway to the guest bedroom, a brotherly move but far from brotherly if he's to believe the smile on her face, clean, soft, pure.

*

He wonders, suddenly, _why_ she needs to stay here at all. Sure, there was the gang mess -- ask his shoulder about that, why don't you -- and the work she's doing for his father, but none of that requires sleep or an empty bed. Normally, he'd think of a thousand excuses, involving ulterior motives or trouble with the law or -- _always_ \-- a secret liaison with Drew, but Adam thinks about Bianca and reasons and can't think of a thing. For all the time they've been spending together (making amends, he thinks, listing off a thousand reasons why Bianca would rather spend time killing Nazis with him than go out to some club) he doesn't know anything about her. Nothing that isn't about him or Drew or some permutation of them both.

The hall is short, and he knocks on her door without another thought. Her hair is wild, freshly combed, and there, again, her legs. She's dressed in an over-sized t-shirt, ready for bed. (He thinks of a thousand ways he could undo her, the sound of his name whispered from her lips. "Quiet," he'd remind her. "My parents.") "Yeah?" she asks and rubs her calf with the opposite foot.

"Is something going on at home? I mean, my house isn't exactly a coveted destination."

She leans forward, touching a finger to his chest. "Maybe I just want to be close to you." And _oh_ he wishes that were true, he wishes that she weren't so predictable, he wishes he didn't care.

"Nice try," Adam says, taking a half-step back. "You don't have to tell me, but you can. If you want." He's ready to turn around, retreat back to his bedroom but she stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

She looks down, her hair falling forward. "I don't feel like talking about it," she says, solemn, before straightening up and leaning against the door frame. A corner of her mouth lifts in a smile, and she lets her hand fall. "But I know where to find you."


End file.
